


Where My Wild Friends Are

by mewida



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1375090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewida/pseuds/mewida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred used to have the best buddies in middle school. But right before high school started, they all went back to their home countries and left him behind in America. Ten years later, he has graduated from college and is now a travel photographer. His job will get him to travel the world, but there are only four countries where he longs to go, hoping to bump into old friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s been ten years since I last saw my friends. My childhood buddies. I do have some new friends right now, of course. But it’s not the same kind of friendship I had with these guys who had been a big part of my life. We were the most extraordinary group of friends, everyone had said. We were all of different nationalities and I was the only American. One was English, another was French, then a Chinese, and a Russian. Sadly, after middle school, they all went back to their home countries, leaving me behind in America. They had all promised that they would write and call… but no calls were made and no letters were sent in the ten years since they’d gone.

Now I have graduated from college, and I’m now a travel photographer. I had sworn that I would find them and restore the magic and wonder that was our friendship, and I’m starting it now.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I was at the bookstore, checking out this book – a children’s book. I looked around me, partly afraid that someone I know would find me at the children’s section of the bookstore holding a fable. Oh well, I could just say that I’m looking for a gift for a little nephew, though I have none.

I was originally just going to look for a travel map for London and Paris, but I passed by the children’s section and this book caught my eye. On the cover was a picture of a bald eagle, a red fox, a Gallic rooster, a brown bear and a dragon. Other people would think it’s a weird combination of animals, seeing as the fox or the bear would eat the rooster and some would argue that dragons do not exist. But here they are pictured on the cover, posing as if they are the best of friends and not caring at all that they are all different kinds of animals.

But seeing these animals together – it has stirred up a memory from long ago. About young boys who played pirates; about petty little fights that would be over in ten minutes; about faraway dreams and little stories we made up; about sweet innocence and friendship sworn forever. A sad smile curls on my lips.

Ah, yes. These were me and my childhood friends. I was the eagle. Arthur was the red fox. Francis was the rooster. Ivan was the bear and Yao was the dragon. I wonder if it was a coincidence or not? The art style on the illustrations looked familiar. Could it be…?

I read the author’s name. George Wembley? I frown in disappointment. Still, I was drawn to the book like a magnet. But I have to meet up with a colleague in fifteen minutes and I was running out of time. I was defeated by my curiosity that I purchased the book along with the travel maps and headed out of the store.

Ludwig was already sitting there by the time I arrived at the café we’d agreed to meet up at. He was sipping his black coffee and nodded when I sat down opposite him.

“Hey,” I greeted. “I’ve got my maps.” I held out the travel maps I just bought earlier.

Ludwig nodded again and seeing that I have something else on my hands, he asked, “And what’s that?”

Dang, I forgot to hide the book in my bag. “Oh, it’s just a kid’s book, for a little nephew of mine.”

“That’s cute,” Ludwig smirked a little. Does he know that I do not actually have a nephew? But then he quickly changed into his formal self. “Right, then. Let’s get to business.”

Ludwig and I are new contributors for a travel magazine and this is our first project after graduation. We were asked to do a feature for Europe. Ludwig, being from Germany, just let me choose which countries to cover since he’s been to most European countries. This project must be so boring for him. When I told him I wanted to do France and UK, he had just shrugged and told me he’s been there before. 

“So we’re going to France. Ah, that’s close to home.” Ludwig mused, but still kept a straight face with no hint of longing etched on his face. I was sure he missed home. He just doesn’t let it show.

“Yeah, isn’t that awesome?” I told him cheerily.

Ludwig stared into the distance and sighed, totally ignoring my statement. “It’s my third time going to Paris.” He took a long sip of his coffee.

“Must be tiring for you then, eh?” 

Ludwig actually smiled a little. “You know how they always say that Paris is the city of love? The first time I went there was when I was twelve; with my family and grandparents on their golden anniversary. The second time was when I was in high school and it was for an educational trip to a museum. Those trips were quite boring, even if it was in the city of love. And now I’m going back there for a travel photography project, with a goofy college classmate. How very romantic.”

“You want to go to Paris to spend time there with your special someone, don’t you?” I teased him. “Where is she, Ludwig? Why don’t you bring her along?”

Ludwig just chuckled and looked down at his coffee, a sad chuckle. I can sense some bitterness in him just like the coffee he’s drinking. “I thought I said ‘let’s get to business’? Come on, let’s just focus on our work first.”

But I can’t focus on work right now. Not now when we’d just talked about ‘the city of love’ and special someones. I can’t get it out of my head now. I listened to him talk though, and answered when he asked me questions, but I was only half-attentive.

Now that I think about it, I’ve never been the kind of guy who’s been very keen on having a girlfriend. I did date a few girls back in high school and college but they never lasted. They were pretty and nice, but there was never this spark they always say happens when you fall in love. Of all those girls I’ve dated, none of them struck to me as the person I would want to spend my life forever with.

Unlike those times with my best buds in middle school. I always believed that we would be friends forever. I imagined that we would all be the best men for each others’ weddings and be the godfathers of each others’ children. We were supposed to be still hanging out right now, if they hadn’t all left me behind.

I missed them. I missed each and every one of them. Francis, Ivan, Yao, and Arthur. Especially Arthur.

Arthur.

The mere thought of his name made my heart race in my chest and ache with such painful longing.

Arthur. Artie. Arthur the red fox. King Arthur.

He was my best friend. Among the four, he had been the closest to me. He was the one I could trust most in everything. Sometimes I would tell an embarrassing secret only to him because I feared the others would laugh at me. He wouldn’t. He would just pat my shoulder and tell me that it’s alright, that everyone has embarrassing secrets, and that it’s part of being human. He would tell me that we all have flaws because no one is ever perfect.

I admired Arthur. I always thought he was clever and bright. He always knew what to say and do in situations when I usually don’t. He always helped me with my homework, never gets tired of proofreading my essays that were fifty percent grammatically wrong. He liked to write poems and stories and he is good at drawing. To me he was perfect.

We were best friends. Sometimes we would meet up without the others and sleep over at his house. He told me stories he made up about us. My favourite was the one where we each ruled a kingdom of our own, and all the five kings were friends.

I remember joking to him once, “What if there was only to be one kingdom left? And that we all have to live together in that same kingdom? Who would be the king?”

He answered after a moment’s thought, “You would.”

“Me?” I laughed. “Why me? Why not you? You’re the cleverest king!”

Arthur smiled at me earnestly. “I may be clever, but a great king must be a great leader. You are a great leader, Alfred. I can see that. You lead our group well.”

“Th-then, you should be my queen! If the king is a great leader, the queen is clever! It would be a perfect kingdom with you and me ruling it!” I declared proudly.

“What? No, Alfred! A queen is a woman, the wife of the king. I can’t be a queen! I can’t be your queen. That’s impossible!” Arthur stammered. He was blushing furiously that the colour was reaching up to his ears.

When I realized what we both just said I also blushed, and we were unable to look each other in the eye for five, long, awkward minutes. We were never awkward with each other before. 

Ever since that conversation, things started to change between the two of us. We became more aware of each other. It was our puberty stage, the worst stage in a person’s life in my belief. We were starting to grow out of our innocent young selves and slowly make our way towards becoming men. It was the time when girls and boys start checking out people from the opposite sex and in some cases, the same sex.

As puberty went by I was getting more and more confused with my feelings for Arthur. I would sneak a glance at him when he’s not looking and sometimes I would catch myself staring and then he would notice. I would get jealous when Francis would flirt with Arthur, playing with his hair and holding his hand. 

There were girls who liked me. I would always find love letters inside my locker asking me to date them. Whenever I passed by the hallways I would hear squeals and giggles. I never entertained a love confession in middle school. Francis told me that I was being crazy, and said that if it were him, he would have kissed all those girls.

I couldn’t explain to myself why I was being like this. I looked at the other boys at school and see that they’re checking out the girls. Why wasn’t I joining them? My parents would sometimes tease me if there’s a girl I like and I would always lie that there’s someone I find cute.

In the end, I denied it, pushed it away and stored it in a chest and threw away the key. I kept telling myself that it was just a phase, that it would pass, and I would find a girl that I’d like. I never told Arthur what I felt for him even when he went back to England and never kept in touch again. I wonder what would have happened if I told him. Would he say that he felt the same for me? But I had been too afraid. I was afraid what other people would think of it. Society judges harshly and brings you down. I don’t want that to happen to both Arthur and me. I just kept telling myself that it’s for the good of us both, that I am preventing cruel glares and words to be thrown at us.

After ten years of hiding away that feeling, it now demands to be set free and to be felt as it deserves to be. 

“Alfred, hey.” Ludwig shook my shoulder and brought me out of my reverie.

“Huh? Oh, gosh, I’m sorry dude!” I sat up immediately after realizing I had just slept on our supposed ‘planning’ meeting. How great, Alfred. How incredibly rude.

“Ah, don’t fuss anymore. Let’s just continue this on our next meeting. You seem to be tired.” Ludwig looked at me with a mix of concern and suspicion.

“Alright, thanks Ludwig. I’m really sorry.” I started to stand up but my head feels woozy. I didn’t want to bother Ludwig anymore so I didn’t let it show. I hurriedly put the fable book I bought earlier into my backpack, said goodbye, and dashed home.

I have to find out who George Wembley is.


	2. Chapter 2

I have eight tabs opened on my internet browser, a soda in one hand, the fable book in the other. I’ve already spent nearly two hours researching about George Wembley and still what I’ve found all say the same thing:

_George Wembley is the author of the national bestseller Wild Kingdoms series. Also known as “The Modern Aesop”, Wembley has written many fables for children. Mr. Wembley lives in London._

That’s it. No further details about him. No picture, no birthday, not anything to give a clue about his identity. Just that he lives in London. Well, at least that was something. Still, how easy would it be to randomly pass by a George Wembley in London’s population of eight million?

I looked at the book in my left hand. “The King of the Animals”. How silly I must look holding this. An illustrated children’s book with large texts and thick cardboard pages. With a sigh, I turned to the first page, wanting to entertain myself after the hopeless search.

_Once, there was a bald eagle soaring through the blue skies. He looked down beneath him and saw the different animals going on about their daily lives._

_He thought about how humans have one person to rule them who was called the “king”. The bald eagle then decided that the animals should also have a king like the humans do. Someone to rule over all the animals and maintain peace and order among everyone._

_Feeling proud of his great idea, the eagle swooped down and landed on the Tall Rock. He called the attention of all the animals from the smallest ant to the biggest elephant. They all gathered around him and waited for him to speak._

_“My fellow animals! I have gathered all of you here today to discuss something very important. I believe that like the humans, we should also have a king to rule over all the animals. And so, it is my pleasure to step forward and volunteer myself as your king.”_

_There was a confused chatter among the animals when suddenly the red fox stepped forward and protested, “I do not accept! If someone would be king it should be me, since I am the cleverest! I know what is best for the animal kingdom.”_

_The Gallic rooster also stepped forward and proudly held his head high, “No, I should be the king because I am the most honest! I will never be a corrupt leader!”_

_There was a loud roar when the big, brown bear stepped forward. “I am the strongest so I should be the king! I will protect this kingdom from anyone who threatens it.”_

_All the other animals became more and more confused. They didn’t know who to believe in. Until another one stepped forward._

_“I am the mighty dragon and I should be the king! I am the most unique among everyone and I am very ambitious. If I have a goal for this kingdom I will make sure that it will come true!”_

_And so the eagle, the fox, the rooster, the bear and the dragon engaged in a heated argument. No one would listen to the others, for they all wanted to be king._

_Night was quickly approaching, and the five animals were still fighting for the throne. The red fox decided to settle the problem by suggesting that they divide the animal kingdom among themselves so they would all have a kingdom to rule. The other animals thought this was fair, and they all agreed._

_The animal kingdom was then split into five kingdoms and the five kings were happy to be ruling their own lands._

_The five kingdoms lived in peace and harmony for a time, until invaders from far away lands arrived. The chief of the invaders wanted to expand his territories and demanded the five kings to surrender their lands to him._

_The five kings did not yield. They would not go down without a fight. The chief became angry, and declared war on the five kings. He ordered his forces to attack._

_The five kings defended their kingdoms with all their strength and might. But the invaders were stronger. Soon they realized that they couldn’t do it alone anymore. The eagle, the fox, the rooster, the bear and the dragon all humbly asked for each others’ help. They formed an alliance in order to drive away the invaders._

_The red fox had a clever battle plan to defeat the enemy._  
The brown bear knew how to train their soldiers to be strong enough to fight.  
The rooster inspired them all to keep their loyalty to their kingdoms.  
The dragon had the will and determination to win that he did not let anyone give up.  
And the bald eagle was a great leader and knew how to command their forces with unity. 

_Together, they were unbeatable. Together, they were strong. Together, they were able to win and defeat the enemy. They all had great qualities as kings, but if they had fought alone, their kingdoms would have been crushed down to nothing._

_After their victory, the five kings shook each others’ hands and thanked each other. They realized that power isn’t the most important thing in the world._

_From then on, the five kings became friends. They never argued who the best king was for they all believed that each one of them is special and remarkable in their own way._

_The End._

“Whoa, that was deep,” I said to myself. “Definitely something Arthur would write.” I absent-mindedly stroked the spine of the book and turned the pages to nowhere in particular, staring out the window. Then I froze for, like, ten seconds when I looked at the page it was on. The dedication page. I did not see this earlier.

_For_  
Yao, the dragon  
Ivan, the brown bear  
Francis, the Gallic rooster  
and my bald eagle, Alfred. 

The world stopped spinning. It was no coincidence. This is definitely him. George Wembley is Arthur Kirkland.

My eyes drifted to that last line and kept reading it over and over again, _“…and my bald eagle, Alfred”. I’m his bald eagle. I’m his Alfred._

I’ve wasted two hours on the internet. The answer was all in the book and I should’ve read it first. Nevertheless, I got my answer. Was it destiny that brought me to the children’s section of that bookstore? I’m sure it was. Gosh, now I needed to see him more than ever, but I have to figure out how to find him in London.

All those feelings that I’ve hidden away so long ago now came flooding out. That dedication… could he possibly feel the same way I do for him? There’s hope, isn’t there?

My phone rang and I reached over my bedside table to pick it up. It was from Ludwig. I remember feeling guilty when I slept on our conversation last time, I have to be alert this time or he might dump me and find another project partner.

“Hello, Alfred?” His deep voice asked.

“Ludwig! Hello, buddy!” I greeted him as cheerful as I can. 

“Yeah, uh,” his voice was raspy with nervousness, “I have something important to tell you.” 

“Oh, about our meeting tomorrow? Same time, same place right?” I chimed, maintaining my enthusiasm because his tone is getting me nervous as well.

“Uh…” he coughed, “I – I’m sorry, Alfred. I’m dropping out of the project. Something happened in our family and I have to go back to Germany.” He let out a long sigh.

“Oh… really?” I was about to ask what happened but then quickly stopped myself because I did not want to invade their family’s privacy.

Ludwig quickly replied. “I’m really sorry. Would you be alright doing the project alone or shall I find you a new partner?”

“It’s alright, Ludwig. Family matters are important. And you don’t have to worry about me! I think I’d be fine on my own. I’m a big boy!” I assured him.

“Thank you, Alfred. Good luck and take care.”

“Sure, Ludwig. You too.” 

And with that, we both hung up. Now I’m on a solo flight. The first thing I asked myself was, _“could I do this alone?”_ I have to, because I’m going on this trip for both work and personal reasons. I’m not going to look for a new partner. I don’t want to drag someone along with me while I go look for my old friends.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I started gathering the documents and files Ludwig and I prepared for the project, my travel maps, my passport, and most importantly, my camera. I booked my flight for London and took the earliest possible date from today, which is two days from now.

I didn’t know what to do while waiting for two days, so I cleaned and polished my camera and took random pictures outside my apartment. I took pictures of the sky, the landscapes, anything. I also took pictures of people; couples, families, even those who were alone. 

Through the lens of my camera, I caught sight of a small group of young boys, playing and teasing with each other. They were probably about eleven to twelve years old. They looked so happy and they seem to be enjoying the company of each other. I can only assume that they are a very tight group of friends… just like we used to be. I saw myself, Arthur, Francis, Ivan, and Yao in those kids. I imagined that we were twelve again, and that we were the ones running and playing about. 

Even though the scene was tugging me painfully in the heart, I captured photos of them. I took pictures of the kids that reminded me so much of us.

A thought suddenly slipped my mind. What if I was the only one looking for them? What if I was the only one who still cares? The only one who wants our friendship back? What if they didn’t want to see me anymore? Maybe that’s why they all left the States and never contacted me again? Do they even remember me at all? 

What about them? Do they still know each other? Does Francis know where Arthur or Ivan or Yao are? Does Ivan still remember us? What about Yao? What about Arthur?

What if Arthur doesn’t think of me as his best friend anymore? It’s been ten years since we last saw each other. He might have probably found a new best friend.

 _Nonsense,_ a tiny, hopeful part of my brain said. _Remember that book. Remember that dedication. Arthur hasn’t forgotten you. Arthur hasn’t forgotten all of you. Even after all these years._

At least, that was something I can hold on to.

My mind is driving me crazy. Maybe I should play some video games to distract myself. I went back to my apartment and set my camera aside.

After defeating eleven alien bosses, my eyes started hurting and I turned off my game. Bored, I started looking through my closet to see which clothes I would pack. Most of my clothes are fitted shirts and jeans and a few jackets. In the Californian climate, I don’t need too much thick clothing to wear. I then remembered that London is mostly rainy and cold, and the clothes I have here wouldn’t protect me from that. I have to go home to Oregon and pick up my winter clothes there. I wonder what my parents are doing right now.

I picked up my phone again and dialled Mom. She answered after two rings.

“Darling! How are you?” My mother boomed as if she were the one who called me. I heard her call out to Dad, “It’s Alfred!” 

“Hey, Mom. I’m fine. How about you? Listen, I’m coming home right now to pick up my winter clothes.” 

“Oh, how sweet! Dad and I are excited to see you! I’ll prepare dinner for you! Roasted chicken with your favourite homemade gravy and mashed potatoes. How does that sound?”

The mention of a home-cooked dinner made my mouth water for I’ve been feeding mostly on fast-food ever since I moved out of my parents’ house. “That sounds delicious, Mom. I can’t wait to get there!”

“Okay, Honey, drive safe!”

I took my keys, grabbed my jacket, and hopped into my truck.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as I pulled up at my dad’s garage, I can already smell the roast chicken wafting through the air. The one hour and fifteen minute drive was enough to make me hungry. As soon as I stepped out of the truck, the front door was burst open and the shriek of my mom was enough to wake the entire street.

“My baby boy!” She grabbed my face and kissed both of my cheeks when I came up to her.

“Hey, Mom.” I hugged her and kissed her cheek.

My dad approached and gave me a half-hug. “Hello, Son. Welcome home.” 

“Oh! Dinner’s ready. Come on, boys!” Mom dragged me into the dining room, my dad following suit with an amused smile on his face.

My mom chatted all through dinner and I was only half-listening because I was busy wolfing down my food. She kept asking me about how I was doing at work or at my apartment or anything at all. I just kept replying with “I’m fine”, “I’m okay”, and “yeah”.

“Just bear with your Mother because she hasn’t seen you since your graduation.” My dad whispered to me.

“Of course, I miss my handsome boy!” Mom smiled sweetly at me as if I were a baby boy in a crib. “Wait, didn’t you say you were going to pick up your winter clothes? What are they for?”

“I um, I’m going to London and Paris for a travel feature. Work stuff.” I tried to sound as if it was just some essay I had to do for school.

My parents looked at each other. “Is that so?” Dad asked. “When are you leaving, then?”

“The day after tomorrow,” I answered, dipping my chicken in gravy.

“How too soon! I was hoping you’d stay here for three more days,” Mom said with a pout.

“Mom, I just said that I’m only going to pick up my winter clothes and then go back home, right?” 

“Well, at least stay the night! I’ll make your favourite pancakes.” Oh, Mom. She just misses me so much.

I couldn’t deny her. “Alright, Mom. Thanks.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was in my old bedroom, scanning my closet and taking out my thick jackets, boots, parkas, and anything that would protect me from the rain and cold. I picked them all up, went outside and hauled them into the back seat of my truck.

I returned to my bedroom to prepare for bed. As I grabbed the duvet, I saw it. A picture of the five of us in a small picture frame standing on my bedside table. It was covered in dust, since I’m not here to wipe it clean. On instinct, I wiped it with my hanky. Now you can see the picture clearly. It was from recognition day from seventh grade, when we all managed to get an award. Arthur and Yao had the most medals while Francis, Ivan and me had just one each. Even so, we were all grinning up at the camera, proud of ourselves and proud of each other.

Tears started to escape my eyes. How I missed them so much. How I longed for our jokes, our stories, our games, our adventures. Ever since they’d gone I’d never had friends who were like them. Friends in high school would come and go. I was easily replaced. They were easily replaced. Same thing in college. 

I looked for the shoebox where I had stored all our photos. It was also covered in dust and I almost choked when I took off the lid. More captures of painful, beautiful memories. Most of them were from school. Others were at our houses. Different occasions, sometimes just ordinary days. I smiled at our goofy faces and laughed at some of the pics where either Arthur or Yao was scowling while the rest of were grinning widely. And that one time, Halloween. Francis had dared all of us to wear wigs and dresses and tiaras and whoever refused would have to surrender all his candy. Arthur wouldn’t look at the cameras because he was too embarrassed. I thought he looked cute, but I never dared to tell him that. He didn’t speak to any of us the next day and he had even pulled Francis’ hair because he still wasn’t over it.

Oh, these memories. Priceless and precious. I rubbed my eyes and yawned loudly. I need to get to sleep. I still had a long drive to California and stuff to pack in my apartment.

I made a mental note to bring the shoebox with me on my trip.


	3. Chapter 3

Mom and Dad decided to accompany me to the airport so they went with me back to my apartment in California. Upon entering my unit, Mom complained that I wasn't cleaning my place and started picking up the dirty laundry and empty soda cans scattered in the living room. If only I had known they would come here then I might have cleaned up my place a bit.

"I just remembered", Dad started as he sat down on my couch, ignoring the mess. "Didn't you know that Matthew is in London too? He's started working as a nurse there."

"Oh, yeah? That's really cool! Since when has he started working there?" Ah, yes. I remember Matthew, my soft-spoken Canadian cousin. One funny thing is that if you put the two of us side by side, you'd think that we're identical twins. We resemble each other amazingly for being only cousins. He's really shy and quiet while I'm a bit more talkative and carefree. That's how you'll know who's who.

"Just a month right after his graduation, and one of the first graduates to be employed. He's a really diligent and hard-working lad. I always knew he'd do well." Dad answered, proud of his nephew.

I chuckled at the thought of Matthew. As a kid he was never one to pull pranks on others or play with toy guns. He took care of bunnies, hamsters, kittens and puppies. When I would get injuries from scrapes or falling from a tree, he was the one to put the bandages on me. He had such caring and gentle hands. Hands that could heal like magic.

Matthew had the most perfect job for him. I'm proud of him too.

"I hope I see him there," I said, which was really true, for I haven't seen him in a long while. Even though we were opposites, we usually get along well. We have so much to catch up on, with both of us now working. Gosh, it only seemed yesterday we were kids and now we are so grown up.

"Say hi to him for us!" Mom piped. "I miss that sweet boy. I'm thinking of inviting him and his mom here for Christmas. It would be a nice reunion."

Matthew's mom is my dad's sister and his dad was Canadian. Matthew's dad used to be a famous ice hockey player in Canada but died due to a head injury that damaged his skull. Matthew was only eleven. Since then, Matthew and my aunt were invited frequently by my parents here so that Matthew wouldn't be lonely. He was really close to his dad and had picked up his love for ice hockey. When his Dad died, that was when he decided that he wanted to be a doctor. Now he's close to being one.

I've just boarded the plane and said goodbye to my parents. They left the airport driving my truck to bring it home with them to Lakeview. I even heard Dad say he was going to give it a wash. If Mom complained about my dirty apartment, Dad complained about my dirty truck.

Now I have to focus on work… and other important stuff. Well, the work stuff is kinda easy. Everything's already been planned up by me and Ludwig like the locations and subjects for the photos. I'll just worry about it when I'm already there. Like, which angle to capture it from, or whether the lighting is okay.

But how to look for Arthur, Francis, Ivan and Yao? That I have no plan for. I don't even know where or how to start. And to think how big Russia and China are…

That's what makes it more exciting. It would be an adventure, to get myself lost in these places. People say that to lose yourself in an unfamiliar place is how you will discover yourself, your inner strengths and capabilities. I wonder what mine is.

I tried to keep myself busy during the flight. Read some magazines, played with my Ipad, ate whatever I could, but I couldn't shake away my nervousness. My fingers kept drumming on my lap. Here I am on the ride that will change my life back to what it was before. The feelings of nervousness, excitement and fear are so strong and intense that I feel like I'm gonna throw up anytime soon.

The guy sitting beside me just requested something from a flight stewardess and I noticed that his accent is English. He looks like a businessman, judging by his suit, and I'm guessing he's around thirty-five years old. I took the George Wembley fable from my small bag and took my chance. He might have a kid who has read a Wembley book.

"Um, hello, Sir. I'm sorry for disturbing you but do you happen to know who George Wembley is?" I said in the most polite manner, showing him the book.

He looked at me curiously then looked at the book. "Ah, the children's author. Yes, I think a lot of people are familiar with the name, but don't really know who he is or how he looks like. He's a very private person, I assume. Never had book signings or press interviews."

So that's it. "Oh, alright, thank you then," I said, already starting feel down but quickly thought of a follow-up question. "Wait! Do you happen to know someone by the name of Arthur Kirkland?"

The Englishman answered immediately, "Sorry, no."

And with that, the conversation ended but not my hope. I know I'll find a way. It really is like Arthur to keep his life private. He doesn't like being the center of attention and gets really uncomfortable when he becomes so. I understand why he did this, using a pseudonym for his writing career and not revealing anything about his personal information but it also frustrates me how hard it is to locate him. For once, I wished he wasn't such an introvert and shy person.

The rest of the flight was torture. I was really bored but more than anything I wanted the plane to land already. I couldn't keep myself still in my seat and I had an urge to grab a parachute and jump out of the plane.

I was feeling really drowsy when we finally landed. I threw up as soon as I reached the bathroom, blaming myself for eating too much earlier.

Ah, yes. Now, finally, I'm in London. I have work to do and someone to find. Lugging my baggage behind me, I hailed a cab for the hotel. I need to rest.

After waking up from my power nap, I am once again full of energy. The sun is still up outside and after looking at the wall clock I realized that it's only nine in the morning. That whole ride from the airport to the hotel, I didn't even have an idea whether it was night or day. But now it's a perfect time to take photographs.

After I took a quick shower and brushed my teeth, I grabbed my camera and headed outside. Time to start work. If I can finish this quickly, I will have more time to look for Arthur.

It was easy. I got a handful of good shots of London's famous landmarks like the Big Ben and London Bridge. The London Eye is also fantastic! I had a lot of cool shots from up there overlooking the city. It was really enjoying riding in the red double-decker buses. Naturally, I went for the second storey and admired how the city passed by with the wind blowing in my face. This city is so big and full of adventure. There is so much to see and capture photos of. There were also lots of tourists like me. I wish Arthur was with me right now, acting as a tour guide proudly showing me the beautiful sights of his city. He would be explaining the historical events of each landmark to me and smile at me to ask if I like what I'm seeing. I would say yes, I like it very much. If only you here were with me, it would be so much better.

At around noon I was already satisfied with the (more than one thousand) shots I've taken and decided to go for lunch. Scouring the streets, I found a nice little restaurant with few people. I just ordered the first one I saw in the menu because I was really hungry. It was fish and chips. Huh, chips. At home these are called fries. Chips are Lay's and Pringles. Arthur told me that we call chips are called crisps here. I asked him why we have to call it differently when we speak the same language. It's just so confusing. He said it was because of cultural differences.

My thoughts are always drifting back to Arthur. I hope this means that I'll get to see him real soon.

I finished chowing down my fish and chips in a few minutes and paid the bill. As I was starting to leave, I overheard the man from the next table talking to someone on his phone.

"What happened? A car accident?"

He paused to listen to the reply from the other end. I just noticed that there was a George Wembley book on his table. Wild Kingdoms. That's his bestselling series.

The man's forehead creased in a frustrated worry. "Yes, that's him. Arthur Kirkland is his real name. George Wembley is his pen name."

I froze in my seat. Oh, God, no. This is not what I'm hearing right now. My mind must be playing nasty tricks on me. No. Please no. My heart started pounding uncontrollably. I felt the blood draining from my face.

"How is he? …Comatose?" A deep sigh. "At least he's still alive, there's still chance. Which hospital is that again? I'm coming there now. Please do your best to help him survive." He hung up with his eyes closed, heaving out another huge sigh. As he started gathering his things, I jumped from my seat and grabbed his arm.

"Arthur? Arthur Kirkland? He was in an accident? He's in a coma?" I asked him frantically.

The man was very surprised at my sudden action. "Y-yes, unfortunately," he stammered, looking down at my tight grip on his arm. "Do you happen to be an acquaintance?" He looked around him, not knowing what to do and perhaps considering trying to ask for help but we were not drawing attention from anyone else yet.

"He's my best friend," I replied in a shaky, almost inaudible voice and that's when I realized that I was crying. My heart is aching. My mind is spinning. No, this cannot be happening. Not to Arthur. Not to my Arthur, my red fox.

He looked at me now with his eyes showing pity. "You must be Alfred. You should come with me to the hospital, then."


	4. Chapter 4

There he was, lying on the hospital bed, unconscious. I never imagined that when I would see him again, it would be like this. His body covered with dark bruises and patched with bandages and attached with a bunch of tubes. No, it isn't supposed to be like this.

Our reunion should of been happy, lively and full of talks and hugs and laughter. He should of been smiling and his emerald eyes sparkling. Instead it is cold, silent, and grim. Arthur looked half-dead while my eyes were all red and puffy from crying. The plain, lifeless white walls of the hospital room just added to the depressing aura of the situation.

I held his hand very gently. It used to be warm, but now it's cold. Still, it's the same firm hand that I used to always hold on to. The touch of his hand will always be familiar to me. "Arthur. Arthur, I'm here. Please wake up. I'm here now. I'm back." My voice cracked on the last word. I stroked the back of his hand, trying to bring warmth back to it.

"Reports say he was really drunk driving his car last night. He lost control and crashed into a tree.", the man I met in the restaurant spoke. I almost forgot he was here. I looked at him and remembered that I hadn't asked for his name yet. He smiled at me weakly and as if able to read my mind, he introduced himself. "My name is Oliver Thomas. George Wembley's editor." He extended his hand in a very formal way.

I took his hand and gave it a shake. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Thomas. Thank you for bringing me here."

"You're welcome. And please call me Oliver. It's nice to finally meet you, Alfred the bald eagle." He smiled again.

"How did you know who I was?" I asked, confused that someone I didn't know knew me.

"You said you were his best friend. I'm his editor remember? I know who the inspirations behind his bestselling books were. Arthur also spoke of you many times so it was easy to recognize you even if we've never met before," he explained with a steady gaze.

"Really? He did?" I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. He remembered me. He talked about me. Not just once, but many times. But then… "Why did he not contact me? Never called, never sent letters. He promised he would." Suddenly I was angry and hurt. I felt betrayed. I felt cast aside and forgotten. All these years. And the others too. Francis, Ivan and Yao. They had also promised. I waited and waited for years. But I had waited for nothing.

"That's for him to explain. Not me. He had a reason. But believe me; he was dying to talk to you again. He missed you so much. I think that's why he got himself drunk last night. To forget his loneliness."

I turned my head to look at Arthur again. I examined his face. It was pale, paler than how I remembered. There were creases on his forehead and on the outer corners of his eyes. He had dark, bulging eye bags. His lips were also pale and were in a permanent frown. There was a cut on his lower lip. His left arm was in a cast. His entire head was wrapped in bandages that you could no longer see his blond hair. My poor Arthur. It hurts me so much to see him so injured, so broken, so… lifeless.

"He was a very lonely man, Alfred. I can always see how sad his eyes were and I knew he was missing someone terribly. That's why I always tried to get him to talk to me about anything. I tried to be his friend. I listened to him. I did whatever I could to lessen his burden. But I could never amount to those four friends whom he longed for, especially that one Alfred that he always talked about. He was still miserable." He paused, searching my eyes. "He has so much to tell you."

"No, Oliver. I think you have been such a good friend for Arthur and I would like to thank you for that. Really." I smiled at him.

"I'm glad you think so, Alfred." He smiled back, and I can see the worry in his eyes and that's how I knew that he truly did care for Arthur.

We stood in silence for a while. We were both just watching Arthur. I knew that we both want one thing: for Arthur to wake up.

I glanced at Oliver again. He didn't seem to notice me looking as he continued to watch Arthur. As much as I was thankful for everything he's done for Arthur, there was something bothering me that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Was it jealousy? That he had been there for Arthur when I was thousands of miles away? That maybe, this Oliver had replaced me for what I had been for Arthur? No, Oliver said it himself that he couldn't match what I had been to Arthur. It would be best to shake this discouraging feeling away. It will only make me restless. Instead, I should be thankful that he kept Arthur company for all the time that we were apart.

He also said that Arthur had so much to tell me. What could those be? I have to wait for months, because that's how long a coma lasts, if he survives. And he has to. Arthur has to survive. Or I will be broken forever. And cannot ever be fixed again.

Suddenly, the door opened and a nurse came in, shaking me out of my deep thoughts. The nurse was a guy, and he was –

"Matthew?" I gasped, blinking once, twice, three times to check if it wasn't just a look-alike.

"Alfred?" the nurse also gasped. "Alfred, it's you!" His face then broke into a huge smile and stepped towards me.

"Hey, Mattie!" I opened my arms to receive his hug. "Wow, so you really are working here now. I'm so proud of you!"

Matthew smiled at me meekly, his cheeks flushed with color. "Thank you, Alfie. Let's talk later, okay? I'll just check the patient." He turned to examine the patient, and then froze abruptly. He looked at Arthur and then back to me, his eyes suddenly wide with panic.

"Matthew? You alright?" I put my hand on his shoulder, worried that I might have provoked or scared him.

"I – I – Alfred I – uh" He looked down on his feet, as if he were a naughty child waiting for his punishment. "I'm sorry that – that I didn't get to tell you about what happened to Arthur. I didn't expect that you would visit him so early s-so –"

So that's why.

"It's alright, Matt. Calm down, I'm not mad. I understand that you're very busy with your work. Look, I was able to get here anyway thanks to Mr. Oliver here." I regarded the other man in the room who smiled at Matthew.

Matthew smiled back, but it was an uneasy smile. He faced me again, his eyes brimming with tears. "I'm just so sad that this happened to Arthur. I'm so worried for him. And I know you are too. You must be feeling ten times more worried than me. B-but this reminds me so much of Papa." He sniffed. His fingers played with his stethoscope.

I pulled my cousin close. "Ssh, Mattie. It's not over yet. Arthur's still alive. And yes, I'm definitely worried and afraid. But listen, Matt, we have to be strong for Arthur. We have to believe that he will live, okay? Look at you, your job is to help heal people. I'm sure you can help him get better. I trust you. I believe in you. Your Papa would have been so proud of you."

Matthew clutched my arm tightly then released me. He looked at me now with a smile that was full of hope and determination. He then went to Arthur's side and brought out his stethoscope and began checking over Arthur. He scribbled on his clipboard, then set it aside on the bedside table and leaned close to Arthur's ear, whispering, "Arthur, do you hear me? Listen, Arthur, you're going to survive, okay? You're going to fight this and stand up again one day. I'll help you get better. Alfred's here and he's waiting for you so you gotta wake up really soon. Don't make us wait for too long."

Matthew straightened up and softly patted Arthur's shoulder. I walked to stand beside my cousin and grinned at him proudly. "That was amazing, Matt. You know, I believe that somehow, Arthur got to hear what you just said to him. Maybe subconsciously, like in a dream."

We both just watched Arthur as I wondered if it could actually be true. That Arthur could hear us talking to him. I was just thinking of new things to say to Arthur when Oliver suddenly spoke. Again, I had forgotten he was here.

"I'm afraid I have to go since there is still business that I need to take care of. It was a real pleasure meeting the two of you. I will visit Arthur again tomorrow. Goodbye, Alfred, Matthew." He gave a short bow.

"Goodbye, Oliver. Thank you so much for helping me out today." I replied, also bowing. Matthew also gave a squeaky goodbye. Oliver smiled and left the room, closing the door gently.

After a few moments, Matt and I looked at each other.

"The guy must have felt out of place…" Matthew whispered, looking guilty.

"Yeah, I felt that I've been kinda rude to him, I always forget that he's also in the room," I agreed, smacking my forehead.

"Is he a close friend of Arthur?" he asked.

"Yeah, he is. At least, that's what Oliver's told me. He was actually Arthur's editor, and then they became friends."

"Like, how close you are with Arthur?"

For a while I just looked at Matthew, unsure of what to say. "I don't think so – no, maybe they are – I don't know! Of course Arthur had to make new friends because we were gone. He needed someone to talk to and laugh with and do fun stuff together with. Arthur and I have been apart for ten years… I guess that's a long time for someone to forget you."

"No, Alfred. Ten years, fifty years, or an eternity will never be enough for you to forget someone so important and special in your life." Matthew insisted. "My dad's been dead for thirteen years, but until now every happy memory I had with him is still fresh in my mind."

I gazed at Arthur again, thinking if it was true, then I remember my conversation with Oliver earlier. Oliver said Arthur always talked about me, so why am I getting paranoid like this?

Matthew spoke again, changing the topic. "By the way, do Francis, Ivan and Yao know about what happened to Arthur? Still not in touch with them?"

"No, Matt. We had all not seen or spoken to each other since we were fourteen. Actually, I'm looking for them now and I'm leaving for France soon." I answered, suddenly pained at the thought of leaving Arthur in a few days without him even knowing I had been here.

"Oh, so that's why I was surprised to see you here in London. How long have you been here, by the way?"

"Just last night." I replied, and it suddenly dawned on me that I have only been here for less than twenty four hours, and yet it had already felt like a whole week.

"Wow, you're lucky you have found Arthur so quickly, but unlucky that it's like this."

"I know. I actually went here because of work. I had to do a feature for a travel magazine. So while I'm here in London I decided to make the most of this trip and look for Arthur. I was lucky that I met Oliver in a restaurant and helped me come here. I did get to see Arthur, but he won't get to see me, because he's unconscious."

Matthew's face briefly showed a pained expression but quickly changed into a brave smile. "You will come back for him, right? You're gonna look for Francis and Ivan and Yao and you will all see him when he wakes up?"

Matthew's smile infected me. "Yes, Matt. That's what I'm gonna do. You take care of him alright? I'm counting on you so much! And Mattie…"

He tilted his head curiously. "Yes?"

"I'm just so glad that you're Arthur's nurse."

We hugged each other again. Matthew whispered, "I can't wait to see Francis again. Tell him I said hi." When he pulled back, he was blushing furiously.

I grinned amusedly at his red face. "Francis, huh? You got a thing for lover boy?"

"He was my friend too! Naturally, I miss him." Matthew said defensively.

I smirked at him teasingly. It was true how close he was with Francis whenever Matt stayed at my house. Although Francis was confident and flirty while Matthew was more shy and awkward around people, the two of them got along really well.

"Of course, Matt. They are also your friends! You were always a part of the group whenever you were visiting in the States. You also have your animal equivalent, right? Although the beaver is Canada's national animal, you insisted that you were the white bear."

Matthew giggled, also remembering. "I didn't think the beaver is cute enough."

"The white bear suits you more," I remarked as I took a photo of Arthur. I stared at my captured image sadly before turning to Matthew. "Smile, Matt! I'll show this to Francis!"

Matthew tried to protest but gave up and smiled at the camera shyly with a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Cute!" I said, admiring Matthew's picture, thinking how Francis would react to such an adorable picture of Matthew.

He suddenly gasped as he remembered something. "I'm sorry, Alfred! I have to return to the nurse's station. I have lingered here too long. I will get scolded for this." Matthew hurriedly went for the door, leaving me alone with the unconscious Arthur.

I returned my camera inside its case and took out the framed photo of me and Arthur that I took from my old bedroom. I gently placed it on his bedside table, then I debated with myself for a while before finally allowing myself to place a gentle and chaste kiss on Arthur's forehead.

I let my lips hover above there for a moment before moving to his ear and whispered, "Wait for me, Arthur? I'll come back for you. I love you, Artie. Please survive this. When you wake up you will no longer be lonely, because I will be with you and I will stay with you forever. I need you. I need you so much right now after all the years we've spent apart. Arthur, don't let this be how I will see you for the last time. I need to see you smile at me again." A tear escapes from my eye and lands just below Arthur's eye and slid down his cheek, like he was also crying. The sight made me break down and I dropped to my knees and clutched his hand desperately. I cried and howled, not caring how loud I was. I wanted my Arthur back. I have waited for him for ten years and this is not how I wanted him to be when I saw him again. I longed to laugh with him, to share stories with him and do what we always did before. But it's like he is dead like this.

"Stupid Arthur! Why did you get drunk and then drive right after? Why did you do this to yourself?" I continued crying, his bed wet with my tears.

The door opened and Matthew returned, rushing to my side instantly with a glass of water.

"Alfred, drink this. Please calm down and stop crying." He gently pulled me up to stand and handed me the glass of water.

After I downed the whole glass, Matthew took it from my hands and rubbed my shoulder. "Take a rest, Alfred. You've had a really long day. Go and get some sleep. I will take care of Arthur."

"I will sleep here, on the chair," I answered groggily.

"No, Alfred. Go back to your hotel room and sleep in your bed. You need to relax and energize. Come back tomorrow. But for now, rest." Matthew insisted.

I dropped my shoulders, defeated, and went for the door. I took one last, lingering look at Arthur before leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I'm so sorry for posting the wrong text for Chapter 4! It turned out that I posted Chapter 3 instead of 4, so thank you HanMeg for pointing that out!


	5. Chapter 5

I spent the next six days continuing my work, visiting more beautiful landmarks, my camera always at the ready. I never failed to visit the hospital when I'm done to look after Arthur. I chatted with Oliver but I tried my best not to disturb Matthew. That first day of my visit he was scolded for idling and neglecting his other patients. I apologized to the head nurse saying that it was my fault for distracting Matthew and explained that we were cousins who haven't seen each other for a long time. It was lucky that Matthew was one of the best nurses so he wasn't given severe punishment.

Sometimes I would go outside to take a walk, just to be away from the smell of the hospital and to give Matthew some space. I would capture photos of beautiful sceneries I see along the way. Every now and then a couple would pass me by, happily holding hands and stealing kisses from each other. I can't help but imagine how it would be for Arthur and me to be like that. Just casually strolling around the park and being able to show affection for each other just like normal couples do.

My feelings for him are now becoming clearer and more vivid. But it's hard to love someone when you don't even know if they will still be alive tomorrow.

I wonder if fate was pulling a cruel a trick on me. Because just when I had finally admitted to myself that I was truly in love with Arthur, it would lead me back to him, only to take him away from me again.

I stopped in my tracks. Would it? Should I start preparing myself if Arthur wouldn't make it? Or hold on to that thin string of hope that he might survive?

Of course he will make it.

I listened to that tiny hopeful voice in my head. No matter how much it hurts. It's what I chose to believe in. That's what sucks when you're in love.

Conflicted, I returned to the hotel. I'm leaving for France tomorrow and I have not yet searched for Francis' whereabouts. There is so much that I needed to tell him and I know that he is the one who will understand best. He's always the best person to seek advice from, especially when it comes to love. I wonder how he would react when I tell him that it's Arthur that I love.

I grabbed my laptop, typed in "Francis Bonnefoy" and hit enter. There were a handful of results, but most of them were in French. There were also lots of pictures of gourmet food in the results, surely the expensive ones in small, fancy portions. Frowning, I looked for one that was in English.

I finally found one. It was a website for a French restaurant, and Francis is its owner. The name of his restaurant is long and is in French, of course, and I can't even pronounce it properly.

It says here that this restaurant is one of the best in Paris. It has only one branch, and it earns as much as ten branches. I bet Francis is a millionaire right now. I quickly copied the address of the restaurant, feeling relieved that I now know where to locate him.

So, Francis owns a successful fine dining restaurant. Arthur is a bestselling author. I'm just a simple travel photographer. I wonder if Yao and Ivan are as successful as they are. I bet Yao is, considering how his parents are very strict with his grades. As for Ivan, he's really smart and knows how to get what he wants.

As for me, I have to admit that I chose this job for one main reason: what I'm doing right now, to look for my lost friends. My real dream is to become an astronaut. Until now I'm still holding on to that dream, but I would have no time to track my friends down if I spent months floating in space so I put that on hold first.

But I won't deny that I have grown to love photography. Every moment that is captured is something precious. Every memory is priceless. So, to be able to capture them and preserve them forever into a photograph is a wonderful thing. Photography also reminds me how there is still so much beauty and wonder in the world, despite the destruction, wars and hatred that sometimes clouds it. It is something that I need to constantly be reminded of, that there is always something good underneath all the bad we always see. This is why I still believe in a happy ending for Arthur, despite his loneliness in life.

I started tidying up my things and packing my bags in preparation for my flight tomorrow. I felt excited at the thought of seeing Francis but at the same time there was graveness and heaviness in my heart because I have to leave Arthur, in that kind of condition. Unfortunately for his case, there was nothing that we could do but wait for him to show signs of movement. And those usually take months.

If only there was something we could do to wake him up now.

I paid Arthur a visit for the last time before leaving for Paris. He still looked exactly the same as when I first visited him one week ago. He still had bruises, still had bandages, still had tubes, and still looked half-dead.

For a while, I just gazed at him, as if trying to imprint the image into my mind. I thought that this was not the last sight I wanted to see of him. I wanted it to be an old, gray-haired Arthur who has lived a fulfilling life, smiling in his deathbed with his wrinkled hand in mine, our adopted children gathered around us.

Ah, dreaming of the impossible again, am I?

Oliver had stepped out of the room to give me privacy. Matthew was tending his other patients. It was just me, and Arthur's sleeping form. I sat on the chair beside the patient's bed and caressed Arthur's pale cheeks, his blood-drained lips, his cold hands. I tried to memorize the feel of his skin underneath my fingertips, even if it felt like touching frozen meat. The fear that he would be gone before I could return here was so strong that I might break down and start crying again like I did that first day I found him.

Suppressing that dark fear attempting to take over me, I whispered into Arthur's unhearing ear, "Hey, Arthur, I'm gonna have to say goodbye for a while. Don't worry, I will return for you soon. I have to go to Paris to continue my work, but I have some good news for you! I know where Francis is and I'm gonna visit him and persuade him to come here to see you. How does that sound? I'm sure you miss him too. And you know what? He has a nice restaurant overlooking the Eiffel Tower! Isn't that romantic? I'll take you there; you're going to love it! So you have to fight through this, Arthur. You have to live so I can take you to the most beautiful place in the world."

Arthur did not smile, or blush or playfully slap my shoulder. As usual, he continued to lay there, unconscious, his tubes keeping him alive.

"Well then, goodbye, Arthur. I'll see you real soon." I kissed his forehead and gently squeezed his hand. I was so tempted to kiss his lips but his feeding tube was in the way so I just settled for a peck on the side of his mouth. Then I stood up and didn't move for a while, waiting for I don't know what. Maybe hopefully for Arthur to suddenly grab my hand and beg me to stay. But of course he didn't because he can't, he can't function and he's not even aware of what's happening right now.

Grabbing my bags, I took one glance at the photo frame I left on his bedside table and placed a letter that I had written the night before beside it. If Arthur wakes up while I'm gone, this would be the first thing he might see and he'll know that I had been here.

I walked out of the room hauling my bags and found Oliver in the hallway, leaning against the wall and reading a book. As I approached him I saw the name George Wembley written on the cover. He saw me and snapped the book shut.

"Leaving, Alfred?" He asked, smiling. "Got a lot of bags there."

"Ah, yes. I'm off to Paris. Still got work to do."

"I see. Well, I'm sure you would be returning?"

"Of course! And, I'll tell you what: when I return, Francis will be with me!"

"Francis? Oh, the Gallic rooster! Your French friend!" He exclaimed with realization.

I laughed. "Yeah, that's him. You surely know a lot about us, Oliver."

He also chuckled. "Believe me, Arthur's told me everything about you guys."

I took a peek on the book he's reading. "That's a cool book you're reading."

"Of course, Arthur wrote it."

"What's it about?"

"It's about two people who fell in love with each other, but never got to confess their feelings until they got separated for a long time."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "But I thought he was a children's author."

"Yeah, but he can write for older readers too, can't he? Oh, and this book isn't in the market yet. It was only printed recently and I'm checking if there are printing errors. Arthur finished writing this book just weeks before the accident."

"Oh. What happens in the end? Did they get a happy ending?"

"Read it and see for yourself." He dared, handing the book to me. I stared at the cover. It was different from his other books that were colourful with pictures of happy animals. This one had a torn telephone wire on the cover on a gloomy gray background.

No, I can't. If I read that book I will go insane.

"Maybe next time. Well, I better get going. It was great meeting you, Oliver; I'll see you soon. Take care of Arthur for me. Thanks for everything."

"I always do, Alfred. Goodbye, and have a safe trip."

Walking down the hallway, I felt a thorn prick my heart. Was that book about me? Was it an accusation that I never made a first move? Were his books made to guilt-trip me? Either way, it has made me feel really horrible and made me wish to go back in time and do what I should have done. Now, it might be too late for everything.

I found Matthew at the nurse's station and the moment he saw me with my packed bags, his eyes saddened.

"I'm going to miss you again, Alfred."

"Aw, don't worry, Matt. You know I'll return."

He gave a half-hearted smile. "Yeah, I know. I guess I should just be glad that you came and found us here in London. Well, stay safe, Al. And be as fast as you can. I want you to be there when he wakes up."

"I do hope that I'll be there when that happens. If not, tell him that I had been here to visit him, okay?"

"Yes, yes I will."

"Thanks, Matt. I can always count on you." I gave him a tight hug. "Well, I'm off, then."

"Bye, Al. See you real soon."

Then we went separate ways. He went back to his patients while I walked away from this hospital, this city, this country to go to a whole new place to find another person. Another person who I pray, is not in a fatal situation like Arthur is in right now. I really hope that Francis is alive and well, and could help me get out of my sadness, loneliness and confusion.

Paris is indeed, a beautiful and magical place. This place is like a fairytale. The old and picturesque buildings make you feel like your travelling back in time. What everyone says in Paris is true. You really have never been to a beauteous place unless you go to Paris.

But when I was harshly knocked aside by a thief running away with a screaming woman's purse, I didn't think so anymore. Like any place, Paris isn't free from criminals and mad people. That brings me back to reality. Clutching my precious camera protectively to my chest, I retreated from the street intent to find Francis' restaurant.

After walking down ten blocks, I realized I had been going in the wrong direction because I was holding my map upside down. Trying to keep myself cool, I hailed for a cab and told him the name of the restaurant. I haven't even taken pictures of the Eiffel Tower yet. It was lucky that the driver spoke good English and we had small talk during the drive. I talked about the thief earlier and he said that there really are a lot of thieves in Paris. They're always targeting the wealthy tourists.

When we had pulled up, the driver wished me luck. I gave him a tip and told him the same. I turned around, and there it is. The restaurant of the Gallic rooster. I could smell the delicious aroma of the food wafting through the air. I could also hear my stomach's low rumble.

I entered Le Restaurant du Coq Gaulois and what they said about it is true. It is a really packed restaurant and mostly tourists are dining there. But what struck me most is the restaurant's interior. I mean, the exterior was breathtaking and attractive enough, with its beautiful marble walls with hanging plants and all, but the inside is jaw-dropping. Or is it just me?

It's because the walls are so skilfully painted with murals. They're so colorful and realistic. And can you guess the painted animals? Bald eagle, red fox, Gallic rooster, brown bear. Us, again. But there was also a bull and a lion.

And then I saw Francis. I couldn't contain my happiness that he was there in just a short distance, walking, smiling, alive, and real in front of me. He's not dead, or in a coma, or missing. After ten years, he is here again.

He hasn't seen me yet. But I kept watching him. I followed his gaze. He was checking out this beautiful group of women sitting in the left side of the restaurant. A waiter passed by and Francis took the tray from him, meaning to be the one to serve the ladies. Ah, same old Francis. Knowing him, he would also be serving flirtatious words alongside the meals.

Wondering what would happen; I stepped closer to where they were and moved to where Francis was facing to. That's when he saw me.

"Mon Dieu!" Francis almost dropped the tray he was holding.

I just smiled at him and spread my arms open.

"Alfred? Is that really you, Alfred from my childhood?" He gawked at me, completely forgetting the confident, suave image he was supposed to display to his customers, particularly the beautiful ladies.

"Hey, Francie! Did you miss me?"

"Oh, dear me! It is you!" He handed the tray to a waiter and made his way towards me, kissing both my cheeks before embracing me. We were both laughing when we let go.

"Ah, I am not dreaming… you really are here in front of me! And my, you have grown up to be very handsome, just like me! Puberty has done a really good job on you!" He sounded like a doting grandmother and it made me chuckle.

"And you are as dashing as always. I bet you always have beautiful ladies flocking over you. Beautiful man, great cook, successful businessman! By the way, your restaurant is so amazing! You never seem to run out of customers."

"Merci, Alfred. I worked very hard to achieve this dream of mine. It was not easy at first, but I never gave up. Now I'm very happy that everything had paid off. But today, you are my V.I.P. customer. Let's get you a table, shall we? Wait, are you alone?" He craned his neck to look behind me as if he was expecting someone to appear beside me.

"Er, yes. I came here to Paris all by myself."

His face fell for a moment but quickly returned to his bright smile. "Well, what matters right now is that you are here, and I will treat you the finest of French cuisine, free of charge! Prepared by the expert hands of your most handsome friend."

"That would be awesome, I'm starving!"

"Very well, mon ami. This way, please." He guided me towards a vacant table for two. It was beside the grand fountain which gave it a more romantic and serene feeling. When I sat down, I felt relaxed and the jetlag I had earlier was gone instantly. In the background, soft, heavenly music was playing. Yes, Arthur would definitely love this place.

"Here's the menu, Alfred. Just pick whatever you like and eat all that you can. Like I said, it's all for free." Francis sat on the chair opposite me.

"Everything looks delicious, Francis! It's so hard to choose!"

"Ah, but I assure you, anything that you will order will be satisfying and scrumptious, and is never like anything you have tasted before!"

I traced my index finger on the menu. "Okay… umm… but I really still cannot choose! You pick for me, Francis! What do you say is the tastiest one here? The specialty?"

"Well, of course everything is!"

Unable to decide, I ended up eating almost everything in the menu because I wanted to taste everything. Francis's dishes taste like heaven. But it didn't feel like so anymore when my stomach started feeling like it was going to burst open and I cannot keep my eyes open anymore.

I remember eating and talking. Then I was yawning and thanking Francis for the food. He had smiled and taken the glass of wine from me. Wait, I had wine? I don't think I remember drinking wine. Then I started hiccuping and reached for a glass of water and gulped it in one go. I started to stand up and I noticed that it was dark outside and the restaurant was almost empty save for the last few customers and the staff cleaning up. The floor moved beneath me and I felt two pairs of arms catch me. I think they were two of the musicians who played the heavenly music. One of them was brown-haired and tanned while the other was silver-haired and had very pale skin. They brought me or should I say half-dragged me to a room, a bedroom that smelled of roses. As soon as my knees touched the soft satin bed I collapsed onto it and dozed off immediately.


	6. Chapter 6

"So, this is Alfred? Your friend back in the States?"

"Oui. There are three others, but I haven't seen them yet."

"He's good looking, huh. It's actually kind of surprising that he suddenly showed up here. How did he find this place?"

"Antonio, you know that this restaurant is famous. Of course it's on the internet and that's must be how he tracked me here. But I do wish he gave a call first to let me know he was coming. I was really shocked when I saw him. No warning at all! I lost my move on that lady I was eyeing last night."

"Poor bloke, though. Didn't last long on the wine. What if we had given him beer?"

"Oh, shut up Gilbert. He's just very tired from a long trip so he passed out. But we really shouldn't have given him the wine. I feel so guilty."

"Well, he did ask for everything, didn't he?"

"Wait, what did you make him drink, Gilbert?"

"Oh, nothing too strong, I swear!"

"Gilbert. If something bad happens to him I swear I will castrate you."

"Chill out! It won't kill him! He's a big guy!"

"Francis, he's stirring."

I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I realized that those voices weren't from a dream.

"Alfred, are you awake? How are you feeling?"

I popped my eyes open and saw Francis and two other guys looking at me. Then I remembered what happened before I fell asleep. "My head hurts a little."

"Here, drink this." Francis handed me a glass of water which I downed instantly.

"Thanks. Um, is this your bedroom?" I asked, scanning the room. It was also grand and it smelled like roses.

"Yes, but this isn't exactly where I live. I just put up a bedroom here for emergency purposes. Like, if the restaurant is very busy, I don't have to go home and I can just rest here."

"That's cool! It's like having two houses! You must be rich right now, Francis."

Francis chuckled lightly. "I consider these as fruits of my labor. I also wouldn't be successful if it weren't for these two men who helped me achieve this dream." He referred to the two other guys in the room.

"How touchy, Francis. By the way, I'm Gilbert. Awesome meeting you, dude." The silver-haired guy with the raspy voice spoke and ruffled my hair.

"Gilbert, don't do that! He's the same age as I am." Francis protested.

"Sorry! He just looks so much younger than he really is." Gilbert grinned, not looking sorry at all.

"Sorry about that. I'm Antonio by the way. It's nice to meet you, Alfred!" The other guy with dark brown hair smiled at me while shaking my hand.

"Hey, Gilbert and Antonio. Nice to meet you guys too."

"Yes, now introductions have been made. Get out, you two. I wish to speak to Alfred alone. You can talk to him later." Francis said impatiently.

"Speak?" Gilbert looked at Francis with an amused expression.

"Yes, Gilbert. Now, shoo!" Francis shoved Gilbert away from the bed and Antonio dragged him out with him.

The two guys closed the door behind them. Francis turned back to me.

"So, Alfred! There is so much that you have to tell me! You mentioned some quite interesting things last night."

"Uh, I did?"

"Oui! You always mentioned Arthur's name but I'm afraid that most of what you said didn't make sense. But I did catch that bit about you wanting to go with him to Paris together! I'm sensing something there, hmm?"

"I – I said what?!"

"Oh! You said, 'I want to take Arthur to the most romantic city in the world! I want him to see the Eiffel Tower with me and treat him to your restaurant, Francis! I'm sure he will love this place!' Are you and him…"

"Actually, I –"

"Now I'm wondering why he isn't here with you! Where is Arthur? I haven't seen him for so long! I miss those eyebrows… Wait, why do you suddenly look so unhappy? Did I say something wrong?"

I felt my muscles tense and my heart suddenly weighed heavily. I didn't want to tell him yet because I didn't want our reunion to be so upsetting. But now he sensed that something is wrong so I have no choice but to tell him. After ten years, he still knows me so well. "Francis… Arthur, he's…" I sighed, swallowed, and tried again. "He's… Arthur is…"

"What is it? Is it bad?" He asked, worried now.

I told him everything. How I went to London and met Oliver. How I found Arthur in the hospital. How Arthur ended up being in a comatose. And after I had finished, I realized that both Francis and I were crying.

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" Francis sobbed while embracing me. "I can't believe this. Oh, mon dieu, I feel like my heart is breaking! Oh, Arthur! Oh poor, poor Arthur!"

I think we stayed in the room for about an hour, just silently weeping and staring at the wall until Gilbert got bored and started shouting and banging at the door.

"Oi! You two, still alive there? We can't hear anything, you're too quiet. Come out here now, Francis! There's already customers comin' in!"

Francis cleared his throat and shouted back, "Yes, Gilbert. We'll be coming out in a minute, now quit banging my precious door!"

And in an instant, Francis was able to compose himself. He was back to his usual smiling and lively self. He rested his hand on my shoulder and told me in a hurrying whisper, "Take a rest for today, Alfred. I'll just work in the restaurant today and then I'll let Gilbert and Antonio take care of it for the next few weeks. Tonight I will pack my things so that tomorrow we can leave for London –"

"No, it's alright, I don't have to rest today. I actually have some work to do here in Paris," I waved him away, standing up, "I'm a photographer and I need to take shots of Paris for this travel magazine I'm working for."

"Oh! Splendid! If that's what you want to do, then I'll tour you around Paris myself!"

"Really? That'd be really awesome! Thanks, Francis! It would be really more fun to have someone go sightseeing with me!"

"Ah, it is no problem, mon ami! Anything for my dearest friend!"

Many hours later, I already have my camera filled with beautiful shots of Paris and its famous landmarks. The Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame, the Sacre-Coeur, and many others, including Le Restaurant du Coq Gaulois, because of Francis' insistence. He said that it should be included in Paris' famous attractions. I agreed, though, there was some hidden agenda of advertisement in it. I also took photos of the murals of our animals in the restaurant's walls. Francis even volunteered to model for me for that day.

Francis and I were walking down the streets of Paris, talking about our old childhood days and the friendship that was almost forgotten. It was a bittersweet talk, rekindling the days that we were the kings of the world. Those silly little boys who built castles and made up stories about their imaginary kingdoms. We were laughing like crazy, not caring that people were giving us strange looks.

Unable to help it, I showed him the book. The King of the Animals by George Wembley. I have yet to tell him the part about how I found this book and how I found out that Arthur is George Wembley. I let him read the story and the dedication page.

We sat on a bench to let him read. By the time he closed the book, he was on the verge of tears.

"Oh, how beautiful. How truly, painfully beautiful. And the fact that it is about us makes it more beautiful. Oh, my dear Arthur! He was always so brilliant, so gifted. Ah, this is really making me emotional because I thought I was the only one who remembered about our friendship. I thought you had all forgotten about me. All this time, I cannot believe that our paths would ever cross again." He had the book clutched to his chest.

I patted his shoulder. "I feel the same, Francis. I thought that everything we had in childhood would be left I limbo. But I really wanted to see you guys again, so I decided to find you. I worked hard, and now I've found two of you!"

"Alfred, thank you so much for doing this. Thank you, because it gave me hope again. We will all be reunited, I promise. We will work together. We will find Ivan and Yao, even if we had to scour the entire Russia and China. And Arthur, our beloved Arthur, he will wake up again. He will live. We have to be strong for him. Ten years is such a long time. We deserve a reunion."

With that goal in mind, a camera with a full memory, and the sunset gazing down at us, we returned to Le Restaurant du Coq Gaulois torest for the next day, ready to take on the world, find the other kings and return to our thrones we left long ago when we were fourteen.


	7. Chapter 7

"Francis, do you remember my cousin, Matthew? You two were also pretty close back then, right?" I asked Francis at breakfast the next morning.

"Ah, oh, yes, Matthew! I do remember him, of course." Francis smiled as he took a bite of his toast.

"Well, he's now a nurse in London! Look at this photo I took of him last week." I showed him the photograph and he took it with a look of admiration on his face.

"Not so little anymore, but still a lovely darling, just like you! Ah, that uniform suits him a lot."

"Yeah, you can keep that. I know you'd want it." I teased.

"Really? Thank you, Alfred." He smiled as he put the photo in his shirt pocket. As if in sudden realization he paused and his eyes widened. "Wait, what do you mean–"

"You don't have to hide it, you know." I winked at him and laughed. Francis blushed and smiled in acceptance, but it seemed that he had something in retaliation.

"All right, Alfred. You're right. I did have a little crush on Matthew, but since you were protective of your cousin, I decided to keep quiet about it. But I guess I wasn't the only one hiding something, no? Were you also hiding it from Arthur himself?"

Suddenly, the mood around us changed from playful to serious. No matter how fun the situation is, it can easily shift into dark clouds when the subject of my conflicting feelings for Arthur is discussed. It was easy to tease Francis about this kind of thing, but when I am the one who is being asked about it, I realized that no, it isn't fun.

"I was even hiding it from myself. I didn't want to admit it, because I never thought that such a thing would be right and possible."

Francis placed his hand over mine and squeezed it. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, I was the one who brought it up." I sighed. "It's just really depressing when I think about him."

"I know, it pains me too. But let's not wallow in sadness and let our breakfast get cold, for we have a flight to catch."

I nodded and focused on the delicious food in front of me. But no matter how delectable it was, my mind kept drifting away.

Francis liked Matthew. Matthew liked Francis. They haven't confessed to each other yet, but their feelings are mutual. I liked Arthur. Would I be as lucky as Francis and Matthew? Did Arthur like me the same way I liked him? I thought about Ivan and Yao. I knew they were also very close back then. Maybe they also liked each other. I'm pretty sure, I remember that Ivan used to always follow Yao around and give him sunflowers which Yao happily accepted.

It really made me think – what if they had never left ten years ago? If our friendship had never ended, if we were never separated from each other, what would have happened? Maybe Francis and Matthew would be married by now. Maybe Ivan and Yao too. As for me, I guess I would never have had the guts to tell Arthur how I felt for him. Still, I would prefer that he had never left, to see him every day while hiding my feelings. I would rather suffer the agony than seeing him now half-dead, which is so much worse. But I swear, I really swear, that if he wakes up, oh god, I would tell him that I love him so much, that I loved him since we were in middle school and I never stopped loving him.

Oh, Arthur, please wake up. I need to tell you that I love you.

I'd go crazy if I won't be able to tell you that.

Please live. Give me a chance. Give us a chance.

It turned out that it would be the first time for Francis to be away from his restaurant for a long period of time and before we could get inside a cab, he was hugging the marble columns by the entrance door. And even though Gilbert and Antonio promised that everything would still work smoothly without him, Francis was glaring at them with threatening eyes that said he would cook them both if they didn't take care of the restaurant.

"Chill down, Francis! We'll take care of your baby! We're its uncles, remember?" Gilbert cowered behind Antonio.

"Remember to keep everything polished and cleaned! And the fountain's waters must also be regularly cleansed. If I see anything wrong when I come back, I'll fry you both."

The two of them nodded, terrified.

"Ah, I'm just kidding! I know you'll take care of this place. I'll miss you both!" Francis hugged them, and they both looked relieved.

"We'll miss you too, Francis!" Antonio said.

"I'll miss you, baby! Papa will come home soon, don't worry!" Francis blew a kiss to the restaurant before getting in the cab.

"Bye, Alfred! It's nice meeting to you!" I heard Antonio say before the door was shut. I waved back at him and Gilbert.

"I guess you must be bewildered by how weird we are," Francis told me when the cab started moving.

"No, it's not weird at all," I laughed. "I actually think it's cute that you call your restaurant your 'baby' and that Gilbert and Antonio are the uncles."

"I think I should tell you how I met Gilbert and Antonio, and how my restaurant was born," Francis raised his eyebrows as if he was asking permission.

"Yeah, I'd love to hear that!"

"Well, I met them from culinary school, and I actually didn't like them at first. Especially Gilbert, that crazy bastard," Francis smiled and stared out the window, surely replaying the scenes in his head.

"That's interesting," I commented. "How did you become friends with them?"

"Gilbert used to pull a lot of pranks on me. Changing my ingredients when I wasn't looking and sprinkling flour all over my workspace. He got me into a lot of trouble.

"Antonio, on the other hand, was overly annoying. He constantly pestered me, chattering about nonsensical things, and he always made me lose my focus on my work. He just didn't know how to shut up. Oh, how I used to hate them both," he laughed.

"For our final project, we were asked to prepare a buffet feast, which was to be critiqued by the top chefs in France. That made me very excited, but to my horror, I was assigned to group with Gilbert and Antonio. I was thinking, Oh no, I'm done for! My years of hard work will be all for nothing!

"We were given time to discuss and plan on what to prepare for the buffet, and the first thing I said to the both of them was, 'Do you both know how this is a huge deal for me? To become a chef and to own my own restaurant is my greatest dream. The top chefs of France will be tasting our cooking. I hope you won't screw us up. I don't want to fail.'

"They both stared at me for a long while until Gilbert said, 'Who said we'd screw this up? Come on, Francis, it's our final project. Of course we'd want to do great. Just because I like pranking you doesn't mean I want you to fail.' Antonio then said, 'We'll make the best buffet ever! Just you wait, Francis! We'll impress them!'

"I was so shocked and touched by their words. I couldn't believe it. We actually did great and the chefs loved everything we prepared. All that time I was so wrapped up in my own ambitions that I forgot how to make friends. They became my friends. They turned out to be so much better than my initial opinion of them. We achieved dreams together. When we graduated, many companies offered us high paying jobs as chefs. We worked in five-star hotels and when I have earned enough money, I founded my own restaurant, with my two friends helping me out. My restaurant would have never been built without them."

"You're so lucky to have found new friends after our separation," I said. "I'm not as lucky. I didn't have anyone like you have Gilbert and Antonio."

Francis took my hand and held it in both of his. "Alfred, just because I found new friends, doesn't mean they have replaced you. I would never forget my original friends who are so close to my heart. I'm actually so much happier right now than I have been for many years because I'm with you again. I can't wait for all of us to be reunited again."

"But, Arthur…"

"We'll hope for the best," he said, squeezing my hand. "Hope is a powerful thing, so make sure you have lots of it."

We rode to the airport, and I didn't know if I was prepared to see Arthur again in his current situation.

When we arrived in London, Francis was suffering from jet lag and threw up in the bathroom.

"I haven't been in a plane for ten years!" He said, wiping his mouth delicately.

"Yeah, that was when we last saw each other." I murmured, not thinking.

He heard it and he looked guilty for a moment. I immediately regretted what I said.

I haven't asked him yet what the reason was, why he and the others left me alone in the States without a word. I wanted to ask him but I figured that the best time for that would be when the five of us were complete. I have to be patient for a little longer even if I'm dying for the answer to the question that have haunted me for ten years.

We hailed for a cab to take us straight to the hospital. We were both silent throughout the ride. Whether it was because of jet lag, about their abandonment ten years ago, or the nervousness and dread of seeing Arthur half-dead, I don't know.

We arrived at the hospital and stepped into the elevator to get to the fifth floor. When we reached to that floor, however, Francis became hesitant.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

"I'm kind of nervous to see Matthew again."

What? Francis? Nervous? "I thought you were always confident when it comes to love", I said, bewildered.

"No, Alfred. I'm always confident when it comes to flirting. Love, well, it's different."

I stared at him in surprise. It was like Francis had transformed into a completely different person. But then, ten years is a long time. And it's definitely a long time to make a person change.

"Well, what about Arthur? Don't you want to see him too?" I started walking and he had no choice but to follow me.

I took a deep breath as I opened the door to his room.

Matthew was sitting there, holding Arthur's hand. It must be his break time. His face looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Alfred! You're back!" He ran up to me and hugged me as soon as he saw me.

"Hey, Matt," I hugged him back. "Guess who's with me."

Matthew gasped as Francis entered the room.

Francis smiled, "Bonjour, Matthew," extending his hand.

Matthew suddenly became conscious of his appearance. He fixed his hair and smoothed his face before standing up to take Francis's hand. "Bonjour, Francis! It's ah, so good to see you again!"

"I'm also very pleased to see you again," Even though Francis was nervous, he was good at hiding it. "Ten years is a long time, but I see you've grown into a handsome young man!"

Matthew was blushing. "Ah, well, thank you… You are also very handsome, er…" He was stuttering and he was broken off when Francis suddenly grabbed his shoulders and hugged him.

"Why, thank you, Matthew! Do you know, I missed you so much?" Francis breathed in the scent of Matthew's hair.

"So did, I, Francis. I'm so happy that you're here!" Matthew's smile almost reached his ears.

They let go and Francis told him, "We'll catch up later, okay? I'll check in on Arthur for now."

"Yes, of course," Matthew said, stepping aside.

The way they looked and smiled at each other made me really jealous, but at the same time, I was so happy for them.

Francis' initial expression of joy turned into heartbreak as he sat beside Arthur.

"Oh, dear, Arthur…" he took Arthur's hand and stroked it. "Why did this have to happen to you?"

I sat down on the other side of the bed and held Arthur's other hand and kissed it. It was still cold. I looked at his face. It was still pale. The bruises have healed, though. The bandages were also removed. His blond hair is not hidden anymore. I managed to smile a bit. He looked a lot better than when I last saw him. He didn't look half-dead anymore. He just looked like he was sleeping. He looked like Arthur again.

I turned to Matthew. "Any improvements? Will he wake up soon?"

"We still can't tell, Alfred," Matthew replied with a frown. "The only improvements so far are the healed bruises and scars."

"Does Oliver still come here?" I asked again.

"Oh, yes. Very often. He was here yesterday."

"Really? What does he mostly do?" I asked, a little suspicious.

"Most of the time he just watches Arthur. Sometimes he reads Arthur's favorite books to him."

Arthur used to read to me when we were kids. I used to think they were boring, but now I wanted to do it for him too.

"Who's Oliver?" Francis asked.

"Arthur's… friend. His editor." I answered. "He's a nice fellow."

"Ah, I'm glad that Arthur found a friend here that made him less lonely."

"Yeah, me too."

We all just watched Arthur in silence for a while until Francis spoke again.

"Oh, I could never forget how Arthur and I used to have petty little fights."

"Petty?" I chuckled. "I thought those fights were intense."

"Oh, when you're a child, you think everything is intense. I believe the worst thing he ever did to me was when he stuck a huge piece of chewed bubblegum into my hair. Oh, how I cried when my parents had to cut my hair short. I hid in my bedroom for days, thinking that I looked hideous."

I laughed at the memory. "And then Arthur told you afterwards that you could have removed the gum with ice."

"Ah, yes, and I was so angry with him that I punched his nose. He was the first kid I'd ever punched." Francis then proceeded to stroke Arthur's nose which was thankfully, not broken from the accident.

The three of us were laughing at the silly childhood memory, but the happy air still died quickly.

"How I wish I could take all those years back, and we could all still be playing pirates together," Francis said. "We could just be happy children forever."

I looked at Francis and saw a tear escape his eye.

I reached over and put my hand over his and Arthur's.

"Talk to him, Francis." I told him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

"Whisper in his ear. Tell him you're here. He might hear you. Maybe that'll give him strength. Matthew and I did that."

He glanced at me and Matthew. He was still confused, but he did what I said.

"Hello, Arthur. It's me, Francis. I hope you remember me," he chuckled. "We used to be each other's worst enemies, but we secretly cared for each other a lot, didn't we? Because I know that I really, really care about you. Now, you have to wake up soon, alright? You have to come and visit my restaurant! Yes, I'm a chef now, I have already achieved my dream. But there's still something missing because you're still unconscious. You have to taste all of my dishes and I know you'll love them even if you'll insult my cooking. I even have your favorite scones on my menu! Don't you want to taste them? I'm sure you do. By the way, Alfred and I will be looking for Ivan and Yao, and then soon enough we'll all be complete, just like how we should be. By then, you should already be awake, okay? Matthew will look after you, and he's already doing a great job taking of you. Please, wake up, Arthur. Alfred's becoming lonely. We all love you, remember that. Fight this, I know you can survive. I know how strong you are." He then placed a kiss on Arthur's temple.

"That was great, Francis." I told him.

Francis smiled weakly at me. "I hope that was effective."

"I'm sure it is." I smiled encouragingly.

"Would you like some time alone with Arthur? I'll step outside for a while for some fresh air." He turned to Matthew. "Do you want to come with me, Matthew?"

Matthew's eyes widened. "Oh, alright."

"We'll be back soon." Francis said.

When they closed the door, I turned back to Arthur.

"You're looking a whole lot better since the last time I was here, Arthur. I really do hope you're getting better. I can't wait to do fun things with you again. We'll watch movies, go to parks, we can even play pirates again, if you'd want, even if we're already grown-ups. We'll do whatever you want! Maybe you'll tell me more stories. I miss your voice. I miss your laugh. I just miss you. I'm hoping, Arthur. I'm hoping that we'll be happy again in the future. I have lots of hope now, because Francis told me that hope is powerful. Francis misses you too! He came all the way from Paris just to see you. Then when we come back, Ivan and Yao will be here too! Isn't that exciting? So you better wake up soon, okay?"

I kissed his cheek and I was glad that I wasn't crying and wasn't as depressed as before. Maybe a positive outlook helps. A positive environment around Arthur might be helpful for him.

And so I came up with an idea.


	8. Chapter 8

My plan was to make Arthur's environment happy and lively. The plain white walls and the torturing silence made the place so dull and lifeless. I felt that it was sucking the life out of Arthur.

Francis, Matthew, and I decorated the walls with the pictures from our childhood, the ones that I had kept in my shoebox and brought along. We played music, most of which were our favorite songs from back then and we sang and danced and laughed.

"Dance with me, Matthew!" Francis held his hand out to Matthew to which my cousin blushed. Francis spun Matthew around and around until he got dizzy and fell back into Francis' arms.

Apparently, they had already confessed their love for each other when they had stepped outside for some "fresh air" that first night we arrived. It was obvious from the way they looked at each other and the way they always blushed that they are madly in love. Francis had thanked me over and over for bringing the two of them to each other.

It made me happy and proud of myself that I helped make it happen. And knowing that Matthew is in safe hands, I am confident that he'll be okay.

In the middle of our music and laughter, we heard a knock on the door. Matthew checked to see who it was.

"Oh, hello, Oliver!"

"Hello, Matthew. Is there a party here? I hope I'm not intruding." Oliver appeared carrying a suitcase.

"Not at all, come in!" Matthew ushered Oliver in and closed the door.

"I'm just here to bring some of Arthur's clothes. I'll just leave it here and go." He shyly crossed the room and placed the suitcase beside the table.

"Oh no, please do stay. I would like to get to know you. I'm Francis, one of Arthur's childhood friends. It's nice to meet you, Oliver." Francis walked towards him and extended his hand.

"Francis! The rooster! You're here as well! Ah, it's so good to finally meet you!" Oliver smiled in recognition as he shook Francis's hand.

"Oui, that's me, the rooster," Francis laughed, and held his head high as if posing like a rooster.

Oliver then turned to me. "And hello, Alfred. It's so nice to see you again."

"Same, Oliver." We shook hands and smiled at each other.

"Say, is it someone's birthday? This place is livelier than usual." Oliver commented, looking around the room.

Matthew offered Oliver a cup of tea. "It was Alfred's idea. He thinks it will help Arthur get better."

"That's quite a brilliant idea, Alfred. You know, I think it'll be effective, especially if he can hear and feel what's going on around him."

"Yeah, I really do hope so," I said.

"Have faith," he said, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Have faith. Have hope.

We spent the next hours talking, mostly Francis and Oliver interviewing each other, and then Francis advertising his restaurant, and then Francis constantly commenting on how adorable and lovely Matthew is, and then we described to Oliver each picture on the wall. Oliver couldn't stop laughing over our princess getup for Halloween.

"By the way, Oliver, where did you get the clothes for Arthur?" I asked him, referring to the suitcase he brought.

"Oh, I took them from his flat. I have his keys," he then brought out a set of keys from his pocket. I noticed an old blue ribbon tied to the keychain.

I was silent for a little while before I hesitantly requested, "Then… is it… is it alright if we go there? I wanna see where he lives."

"I think Arthur would find it alright. When do you want to go?"

"Now, please."

The cab ride from the hospital to Arthur's place was just approximately fifteen minutes. Arthur's flat was on the third floor of the building. Only Francis and I came because Matthew was still on-duty.

"On behalf of Arthur, gentlemen, I welcome you to his humble home," Oliver said as he opened the door.

The place was tiny, but very neat. It was an old-fashioned place. Most of his furniture are made of wood, and there were carpets on the floor. He had a huge armchair by the fireplace. His television was a small, portable one, not a flat screen. The design on his wallpaper was vintage, I think, Victorian? He had rows and rows of bookshelves which occupied the most space in his living room. It was so Arthur. His personality is embedded in his home.

It looked almost the same as the house that his family had back in Oregon. I felt like I was traveling back in time and I half-expected fourteen year-old Arthur to appear through the door carrying a stack of books.

"It is so obvious that this is a writer's flat," Oliver remarked, gesturing to the bookshelves.

"It is so obvious that this is a Kirkland's residence," Francis added. "It's their trademark home interior design."

We walked in and I saw a desk that I didn't see at first. A laptop was laid there, closed. There were stacks of paper on the right side.

What caught my eye were two framed pictures on the left side. One was a framed picture of the five of us, which was our last photo together. The last day of middle school. I remember it so vividly. It was taken at the school garden where we always loved to hang out. It was where we spent our free time playing, eating, talking, or just sitting there, watching the clouds.

The other framed picture was of me. This one I could never forget.

It was the first time we called each other "best friend". We were seven and we were in first grade. His family just moved to America and it was his first day at school. That day, at recess, some kids made fun of him because he "talked weird". They teased him and mimicked his accent until he cried and that was when I came to his rescue.

I told the other kids that they shouldn't make fun of people just because they're different. I then told Arthur that I liked his accent which caused him to smile a little. Then some of the other kids also started telling Arthur that they liked his accent as well. After that, no one made fun of him anymore.

Arthur thanked me for defending him, calling me his hero. I think that was when I fell in love with him, I just wasn't aware that I did. But now I do.

I was his hero. A smile made its way to my lips at the memory.

"I don't know if I could be a hero to you as well, because I'm not as brave as you are, but I can be your best friend," Arthur had said.

"Best friend?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows and looked upwards in thought. "A best friend is someone who will always play with you, and eat snacks with you during recess."

"I see! Yeah, I would like to have a best friend! Let's be best friends!"

We shook hands to secure the deal.

"Wait," I said. "We need something to make it official."

"What something?"

"You know how in weddings they wear rings to make the vow unbreakable? We should do that too!"

He scratched his head in confusion. "Are you telling me that we need to get married?"

"No, we're too young for that! We just need something, but rings are expensive because they're made of gold. We can't afford them. Ah, I know!"

I pulled one of the blue ribbons tied to a paper flower at the school's fence and cut it in half. I tied half of it to Arthur's wrist and he tied the other half to mine.

"There!" I took his hand and held it up with mine proudly to admire our work. "It's official! We're best friends now! From now on we will play and eat together!" I hugged him and we both laughed.

Of course, our definition of the word best friend changed over the years, but at that time when it just meant "playmates", I already knew back then that the relationship we had was something real.

After school, Arthur had invited me to come to his house saying I had to meet his parents. His mom was so amused by the story of how we became best friends that she took pictures of us holding up our ribbons together.

I took the picture off from the frame and I found another picture hidden behind it. It was the both of us, grinning widely while proudly showing off our blue ribbons. There was something written on the back of the picture. Our "best friend" wedding. I laughed at the humorous caption. I even remembered his mom saying that we looked like happy newlyweds that day. I missed this kind of innocence that you can only have when you're a child.

The picture on top, my solo one, also had a caption. Alfred F. Jones. My hero, my best friend, my bald eagle. I traced my finger over Arthur's handwriting, feeling my heart swell and beat faster. He didn't forget. He never did. But why was there no contact? That same question again haunted me.

I put the pictures back in the frame. I felt Francis' presence beside me.

"Ah, getting teary now, Alfred?" I didn't realize I was crying until he wiped a tear off my cheek.

I laughed. "Yeah, how embarrassing." I returned the framed picture back to its place.

"Oh, don't be." He glanced at the photo of the five of us and smiled.

"I think maybe we should go. It was a wrong idea of mine to come here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It just feels so wrong to come here without Arthur. I feel like an intruder now." I slowly backed away from the desk.

"Alright, then. Back to the hospital?"

Going back to the hospital didn't seem like a good idea for me at the moment. "Actually, why don't we go have a walk first? Go out for some fresh air."

Francis smiled. "Okay."

I turned to the editor. "Oliver, hey, thank you so much for taking us here. I really appreciate all the help that you've given me since I first came here. I feel forever indebted to you."

"Oh, Alfred. Don't you worry about it. I'm doing what I can to help Arthur. No debts."

"You really do care so much for him."

"Yes." His reply was quick and brief. It was so sure and undoubted.

I stared at him for a long while. "Well then, Francis and I will be going. Thanks again, Oliver. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Alfred, Francis." He patted both our shoulders.

"Goodbye, Oliver," Francis echoed.

Francis and I left the building and just as we stepped on the sidewalk, he took my hand.

"You're tense," he said, and then started massaging my palm.

"Francis, I'm so afraid," I said, closing my eyes.

"What exactly are you afraid of?"

"That Arthur might not survive. Or that Arthur might survive but then he won't remember us. What if he chooses Oliver over me? God, I don't know how I'll be able to live like that," I let out a shaky breath.

"Why would Arthur choose Oliver over you?"

"I think Oliver is in love with Arthur."

"Well, do you think Arthur returns his feelings?"

"I don't know."

"Didn't you say we were going out for some fresh air? Come on, let's clear your head of any worries."

I didn't know why I was being consumed by horrible thoughts again. What happened to the happy and lively mood that we had earlier? Lately I've been having these weird mood swings. I think I need a therapist.

Francis gently took my arm and hailed for a cab. The instruction he gave to the driver was, "Please take us somewhere fun."

It was a long, long ride, and we ended up in Windsor. I brightened up when I saw the word LEGOLAND.

I was honestly expecting for the driver to bring us to a club or a bar. I certainly didn't expect to be brought to a theme park. A Lego theme park, even. Isn't this a place for nine year-olds?

Nevertheless, I was excited like a nine year-old.

"Oh, I remember that you had a massive collection of Legos back then, didn't you?" Francis said when we had stepped out of the cab.

"Yeah, I did," I said, still staring in awe at the entrance. I even used to own a Statue of Liberty Lego set.

"Well, come on then!" Francis fished out two tickets from his wallet and gave one to me.

I was shocked. "What?! You already have tickets? I thought we were randomly brought here!"

Francis just smiled and winked at me and then he started walking to the entrance.

"You planned this, didn't you?!" It was obvious. I was overflowing with happiness as my inner child followed him.

"Well, Matthew mostly did. I just executed the plan. It's sad he won't be able to come, but he said that he was sure you'll love it here."

It turned out that it was their way of saying thank you to me for what I did for them.

To be fair enough, it was one of the best afternoons of my life. It had kept me distracted from my worries and fears and I really enjoyed the place. I loved looking at the miniature towns made out of Legos and trying out all the rides. It was a nice thank you gift.

But of course, distractions are only temporary.

When it was evening and I was lying in bed at the hotel, I thought about how it would've been more fun if we were all there. If Arthur was there with me.

And so I cried before I fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

I just received an email from my boss telling me that all the pictures that I took in London and Paris were great for the new issue of our travel magazine. He also told me that he's going to let me take a vacation break since I'm out of the country.

This means… I have the time to go look for Ivan and Yao.

"Francis, how are we going to look for Ivan and Yao?" I asked Francis as we were walking down the hallway of the hospital.

"Hmm, how did you look for me?" he asked back.

"I googled your name, and then I found that you owned a restaurant in Paris After that, it was kinda easy to locate you. But it's not the same with Ivan and Yao. Their countries have totally different alphabets, not to mention their countries are so big. It's pretty impossible," I kicked at the air in dejection.

Francis looked doubtful as well but he still tried to be hopeful, "Nothing is impossible, Alfred. Those were your words, right?"

As we approached the door to Arthur's room, we found Matthew just coming out of it.

"Matt! How is he?" I asked.

Matthew shrugged. "Not better, not worse either."

I nodded. Of course. As expected.

"By the way, Oliver called," Matthew added.

"What did he say?" Francis asked.

"That a letter arrived at Arthur's home," Matthew said carefully.

"Oh, where's it from?"

Matthew looked at me then at Francis before answering, "from  _Russia_."

Francis and I looked at each other, our mouths open.

There was silence for a moment, the three of us staring at each other, taking in the new information.

"Do you think…?" Matthew broke the silence.

"Ivan?" Francis tried.

I shook my head, not wanting to get my hopes up yet. "Did he mention what the letter says? Or who's it from, even?"

"No," said Matthew. "He didn't want to read it, said it's not for his eyes. He wants the two of you to read it first."

I looked at Francis and he just nods slowly.  _It could be Ivan._

_How?_   We don't know.

* * *

Oliver arrived at the hospital two hours later, the intriguing letter in his hand. Francis and I stood up to greet him.

"Here it is," he began, "I think you might find this to be very important."

Francis accepted the letter. "Thank you, Oliver."

"My pleasure," he said. "And now I shall take my leave."

"Oh, no, stay and read it with us," I offered.

Oliver smiled and remained, "If you insist."

Francis then turned the envelope in his hand and we looked at the sender's name.

_Ivan Braginsky_.

Francis gasped and put a hand to his mouth. My hand grabbed Francis' arm.

Slowly, he tore open the envelope and took out the folded piece of paper inside. He unfolded it and smoothed it and we began to read.

* * *

_Dear Arthur,_

_I hope you still remember me. We used to be friends when we were children, though I like to think that we are still friends now. How are you? I hope you are doing well. I hope our other friends, Alfred, Francis, and Yao are doing well too. I also hope that the five of us can meet again someday and reminisce about old times, yes?_

_You may be surprised as to how I found your address, so I will start from the beginning. I am a TV producer now, and I have worked for a lot of TV shows here in Russia. One day, I was in a bookstore, looking for material that we can adapt for a show and I found your book. "The King of the Animals" was the title. It is your work, even though you used a different name, is it not? I know it is you because I read it and I am sure that it is about the five of us. The bald eagle is Alfred. The red fox is you. The Gallic rooster is Francis. The dragon is Yao. And the brown bear is me. It is no coincidence. No one else can put those five animals together and write a story about it._

_I asked my assistant to look for your contact details and address. He is very good at finding out things. We tried to call your phone number, but there was always a problem reaching your line. So I sent you e-mail and snail mail. I hope at least one of these reaches you._

_I would like to ask for your permission to adapt your book into a children's show. I hope it is alright with you. It is a very beautiful story, and I was very moved by it. I hope you would agree that we can share this story to more people. If you would also like it, I am inviting you to come visit our studio here in Moscow so that we can see each other again and discuss more. I have enclosed my calling card for my contact details._

_I am looking forward for your reply, my old friend._

_Ivan._

* * *

Francis and I stared at each other after we finished reading. Both of us are speechless. One of the persons we were thinking about how to look for has just sent a letter. I took the envelope and fished out the calling card that Ivan enclosed.

"So, here's what we were looking for," I said, holding up the calling card, "the question now is, when do we tell Ivan about Arthur? Do we call him now or do we just tell him when we see him?"

Francis exhaled slowly. "I think… it would be best if he knew as early as now."

"I agree," Oliver said. "He may insist to come here himself to see Arthur, so you don't have to leave."

"Okay," I agreed, because I'm pretty sure that if Ivan still considers Arthur his friend, he will set his work aside and be there for his friend.

Francis smiled at me reassuringly. "Everything will be fine. I'll go call him later."

* * *

After lunch, Oliver had to go and do some editing work. I sat beside Arthur, watching his face as Francis copied Ivan's number and dialed it on his phone.

"I hope this long distance call works," Francis mumbled as he waits for the other line to answer.

I took Arthur's hand and watched Francis pace around the room.

To be honest, I really didn't know what to expect upon meeting Ivan again. Has he changed a lot? How would he react upon seeing Arthur like this? Or meeting Francis and me again? Even though we were in the same group of friends, I still feel unsure about him. Of the four of them, he was the last one I got close to. We even had a fistfight before we became friends. It took me a while to trust him back then. Of course, he proved to be a really great friend after that. I don't know why I'm a bit anxious. Maybe it's because it's been ten years since we last saw each other. What could Francis be thinking about him right now?

This is ridiculous. We are friends, best friends. All of us are. It's not fair to think of Ivan this way.

"Ivan!" Francis gasped, making me snap out of my thoughts.

"It's me, Francis, oh mon dieu, yes, yes, it's me! Oh, I never thought I'd hear your voice again!"

I cannot hear what Ivan was saying on the other line so I just guessed based on Francis' reactions.

"Your accent got so much thicker! I can barely understand what you're saying now." A hearty laugh.

I smiled, all of my negative thoughts flying out. Francis was so happy to be able to talk to Ivan again, he looks close to tearing up.

"Okay, wait, Alfred, is here with me. He'll want to say hi too. Yes, we're together right now! Yes, yes!" The phone was handed to me, and I looked up at Francis' wide smile. I took it, even though I had not prepared anything to say.

"Hello?"

"Alfred! Alfred, it is so nice to hear your voice again!" Ivan's thick Russian accent was very unmistakeable.

"Hey, Ivan! Wow, you sound so different now! So grown up, and  _so… Russian_."

Okay, that was probably a very stupid thing to say, but that was my first reaction upon hearing his voice again.

"Do I sound like a villain in a Hollywood movie now?" He laughed.

"Yeah, I'm a bit scared now, actually."

He laughed again, and I didn't realize I was laughing along too. And there's nothing to be anxious about, because we were just two old friends catching up on each other. Sure we had our rivalries when we were kids, but what's more important is that we were friends who'd been apart for so long. And we also had to joke around.

"It's been a long time, Alfred," I heard him sigh, "It's good to talk to old friends again."

"It sure is, buddy," I smiled, "Reminds me of old times."

"I would like the five of us to meet again. Have you got any word on Arthur and Yao?"

I closed my eyes. Here it goes. "About Yao, no, we haven't got anything on him yet. But, Arthur…" I recounted to him about my job and how I met Oliver and found out about what happened to Arthur, found Matthew, looked for Francis, and how we had to read his letter to Arthur, because Arthur wouldn't be able to. And I didn't forget to mention that I also discovered Arthur's book and knew instantly that it was about us.

Ivan was silent for a little while.

"I have to come visit him," he finally said. "I'll have to settle a lot of things at work and hopefully I can come within this week or the next."

I turned to Francis and beamed at him.

"Thank you, Ivan. I'm hoping that if all of us are here, it would help Arthur wake up again. Francis and I are really looking forward to see you again! Oh, and Matthew is here, too. He's Arthur's nurse."

"Matthew, your cousin? Ah, yes, I remember him! He was the quiet one, was he not?"

"Yeah, haha... I can't believe it. When you get here, we'll be almost complete…"

"But Yao, we need to find Yao too," Ivan insisted. "I miss him a lot. It's not the same without him."

"I know, Ivan, we all miss him too. But, don't worry, I'm sure we'll find him too. I'm determined to bring all of us back together. Ten years is too long a time to be apart. We'll find Yao, and then Arthur will wake up. And everything will be like it was before."


End file.
